Thoughts of Rebellion
by The Lazy Marshmallow
Summary: Those words still sounded ironic to her ears even more so now that she knew the slow burning desire for revenge was all that kept the once strong girl company.


Thoughts of Rebellion

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><p>AN. Hello. Just an idea that somehow spawned into a fic that probably goes against canon. Thanks to all who read, all who just skim it and those who give up halfway through.

Warning: Contains OOC and wishful thinking.

Disclaimer: The series Claymore and all characters associated with said series do not belong to me.

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><p>Sometimes children can be incredibly stupid. Either that or they are cursed with never-ending curiosities that lead them on towards stupidity. No matter how one looks at the problem it all comes back to the simple fact that humans have the uncanny ability to make fools of themselves. She supposed it was better than the alternative for if she let them wander further they would no doubt end up as some Yoma's main course. That would be bad and she would be blamed for being careless and then she would be executed. All because of stupidity.<p>

Clicking her tongue impatiently, the current number three of the organisation pushed herself off the tree against which she had been casually leaning and headed towards the excited chatter that drifted towards her. Children were also a downright rowdy lot in addition to being stupid. She inwardly sighed. Her vocabulary was getting monotonous as she had called them stupid four times since encountering their voices. Still it had been a rather busy week and she was in no mood to humour one child let alone a bunch of them. Besides she was working. The loud clink from her armour alerted them to her presence and she stopped just short of the group of six boys.

"Wow, a claymore!" The eldest boy shouted pointing in her direction drawing yet another inward sigh from the warrior.

That was another thing that she hated about children, their tendency to state the obvious. Though it was a fairly common reaction from the humans she had previously dealt with it still annoyed her to some extent. After all, once upon a time she had been human.

"Check out the sword!" another boy shouted.

Ah, another common reaction although this one seemed to be limited to the children. She had grown tired of the many questions regarding the weight and effectiveness of her weapon. The last one to ask her had been a small girl and she had briefly considered letting her hold the broadsword in lieu of answering. That idea had promptly died in light of the consequences she would face if she had allowed her boredom to get the best of her. Anyway, the child's mother had dragged her away with excellent timing.

"Stray no further." Her voice radiated quiet authority despite the languid way in which she spoke.

Six hostile pairs of eyes regarded her at once, drawing a chuckle from the imposing warrior before them. No wonder humans were so high on the Yoma food chain. Any advice given would seem too much of a demand or an order and at once their rebellious natures would emerge. For a Yoma who loved nothing more than playing with their prey, a human's defiance and reliance upon the belief that their species was invincible would be an endless source of amusement.

"We don't have to listen to you," the eldest boy had spoken again. He seemed to be the leader of the unruly pack.

"Yeah, you're not our parents and they don't matter anymore. You can't tell us what to do!" The protests became louder as their voices grew in confidence. She remained silent. They were orphans then. The organisation would have loved them years ago. It would have been a great discovery, six headstrong boys to be broken and sent off to the ongoing war against the Yoma. Her eyes narrowed at the thought.

"What town do you hail from?"

Her question was met with stubborn silence. Why of all days and of all people did she have to deal with them?

"Return to Lacroa. I'd rather not have to look after you all."

She brushed past them with no further comment, continuing down the well worn road that would lead to the sheltered town below. A boy's voice rang out after her and she threw a disinterested look his way over her shoulder.

"How did you know we're from Lacroa?" A faint smug smile lit her features and she turned towards him tilting her head slightly to the side before looking him up and down the smile never leaving her features.

"Your thoughts were so close to the surface I couldn't help but read them."

It was a blatant lie and she knew it but the way his eyes widened at her words was certainly worth the effort and she had to get rid of her boredom in some way didn't she?

"You could…could read my mind? Can Claymores do that?"

She ignored his questions choosing to strike a thoughtful look.

"Ah, that's an interesting thought. I wonder if you should say that out aloud? I don't think a boy of your age should be thinking such things."

"What are you…what are you talking about?"

He had risen to the bait more quickly than she had thought. One final doubt and he should be on his way. Just as well as the youki she had sensed sometime ago was now closer. It was time to get back to work.

"Your thoughts, or more precisely your opinions about certain people within your company."

The boy at once turned to look at his five followers who at the Claymore's words were gazing at him curiously. Sputtering for them to stop it at once, the now enraged and embarrassed boy stomped away back in the direction of Lacroa. The others followed him pestering him to share his thoughts and the boy's angry remarks soon faded from her ears.

"You can show yourself."

She turned in the direction of the nearby youki. A figure appeared from behind the greenery. Coming into her line of sight the clinking of the armour confirmed that her youki senses had been correct in telling her of the approach of a fellow comrade.

"Telling lies to the children are we Galatea?" Her tone was not accusing rather it was one of worn out understanding.

Before Galatea, the number three of the current generation, there stood the claymore most suited for the roll of mother hen. Heidi? Hillary? No Hilda! The name came to the number three warrior upon seeing the mark located below the Adam's apple. She chose not to remember the names of comrades as there were far too many of them and the high rate of death seemed to kill off any further effort on her part.

"Merely hurrying them on their way," she informed Hilda as unwilling to divulge her motives as always.

"Still Lacroa was a lucky guess."

"It's the closest town for miles and I doubt any of them would survive the journey to a further town. With the increase in Yoma it would be impossible."

"So the God-eye sent the children away out of kindness?"

If there was anyone who believed in the goodness in everyone mantra it would be Hilda. Galatea had no intention of allowing the conversation to veer into a deeply meaningful and soul searching one.

"We have a job to do and Yoma are poor at waiting."

She resumed her walk down the road, Hilda catching up to her as the road evened out from the downward slope it had taken for the previous four miles.

"Just the two of us?"

"Information states it's a relatively powerful awakened being hence two single digits were deemed enough."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Hilda's features for a mere moment but nothing escaped Galatea who prided herself on detecting the subtle changes in those around her.

"Will the absence of your shadow trouble you so, Hilda?"

"She's not my shadow, Galatea." Hilda shook her head disapprovingly.

"There is a difference between friends and shadows. Besides since when were you interested in mere rumour?"

"You mistake me, Hilda. I am only interested in observation."

"Sometimes I think that you indulge in your interest too much. Next time you should at least say hello. We are former classmates after all."

"I had for a moment forgotten," Galatea replied sardonically.

"You really have been spending far too much time with Ermita," Hilda scolded back.

The two claymores had reached the outskirts of the town both falling silent as a lone villager approached them. Yoma scent poured from him and Galatea didn't need her sensitive detection ability to know that the target was heading straight for them.

"Saves us the trouble if they come to us."

Her hand found its way to her weapon's hilt as the human façade the yoma wore crumbled and the monster stretched to its full height. Towering over the two warriors its jagged teeth forming a leer, the awakened being spoke in a gravelly voice.

"Welcome to the end, claymores."

Projectiles shot from his now reptilian back their sharp edges coated in an unknown residue. Hilda jumped to the side drawing her claymore as she did and brought the weapon down upon a passing missile shattering it from the centre to the tip. Galatea's claymore was in her hand before the first projectiles hit and she causally deflected them to the side. Undeterred, the awakened being fired two more volleys towards them. Once again, Hilda took to the air using the incoming projectiles as stepping stones to make her way towards their opponent. Noticing her approach, he turned his attention to her and fired. The splintered projectiles slammed into the ground as Hilda dodged them. Springing through the remaining space between them, the number six of the organisation released her youki. Veins pulsed under the skin that bulged, teeth elongated and a guttural sound escaped Hilda's lips. Yellow eyes flashed, the incoming slash of the sword reflected in them.

The leer never left the awakened one's face. Behind him his tail snaked around his body making its way to stab the unsuspecting claymore in the back. The tail cut through the air towards Hilda but before it could dig into her flesh it crashed off course. Reacting fast to his unexpected failure he leapt back narrowly avoiding Hilda's blade which had aimed to separate his arm from his body. The blade hammered into the ground the power behind the slash splitting the earth and leaving a deep crooked gash. As Hilda wrenched her sword from the ground the awakened being's second fist was barrelling towards her intent on smashing her into a pulp. Before impact the fist veered off course ploughing into the dirt besides Hilda. The number six leapt upon the arm and a howl rang through the air as she dismembered it from its socket. Roaring in pain his tail whipped out slamming Hilda into the dirt some distance away.

With a curse he sought his next opponent. Throughout the battle with her comrade she hadn't moved to engage him. Had she been responsible for his attack failures? He quickly dismissed such a notion. Claymores weren't capable of such things. His tail thrashed out again slamming Hilda back into the ground pieces of dirt flying from the impact. Around the two claymores lay his scattered projectiles and with a smirk of victory he addressed them again.

"Nice playing. But victory's mine."

On his command the residue upon the projectiles hissed, creating fine wisps of smoke. Then the explosions happened as each projectile exploded around the claymores. Letting out a low laugh the awakened being surveyed the damage through the smoke, his trained eyes picking out the fallen form of a claymore. One dead, but where was the other? A faint youki lingered in his peripheral vision and a cold dread began to run through him. When had she gotten within his defences? A bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he slowly looked down at her. Her cloak seemed to be the only casualty of his multiple explosions. Her hair framed her face and she looked up at him undaunted by his size a smirk already upon her face.

"Nice trick. But looks like victory will be mine."

If she was going to be his executioner then he wouldn't die without a fight. His tail whistled through the air towards her and without so much as a glance, Galatea manipulated her youki in between the gaps. The tail thumped uselessly behind the claymore and the awakened being felt the first pangs of panic. She could manipulate his moves. There was just no way he could lay a finger on her. The turning of her eyes from silver to gold was the last thing he saw as she separated his head from his torso with one slice of her blade.

With a groan Hilda sat up taking in the sight of the beheaded awakened being and the disgusted look upon her fellow claymore's face.

"It's only the tips." Hilda couldn't hold back her laughter when she identified the source of Galatea's ire.

Her unexpected laughter caused her to collapse into grunts afterwards as she choked back the bile that rose in her throat in response to the ugly chest wound she had received. Galatea knelt by her side momentarily forgetting the yoma blood that stained the tips of her light blonde locks. A piece of shrapnel from the awakened being's projectiles had slashed through Hilda's lower stomach and embedded itself close to her liver.

"I'm a defensive warrior. I'll live." Hilda reassured her. "It missed the most vital parts."

"We're not invincible. Any further and it would have killed you." Galatea's tone betrayed the faintest note of concern despite the uninterested look she shot Hilda.

Before the wounded number six could reply she found herself being gently picked up and swung over the taller claymore's shoulder.

"What are you doing, Galatea?" Hilda asked incredulous.

"You shut it and concentrate on healing," came the stern reply as Galatea headed towards the town. "I don't have time to waste hanging around a week waiting for you to heal."

"So you're just going to dump me in some town?"

"No I'm dumping you back in Staff."

"You're carrying me all the way to Staff?"

Despite the pain her stomach was causing her, Hilda was been annoyingly talkative and Galatea was beginning to regret her unusual act of kindness.

"You should be able to walk at least half the way. Also, don't you dare get your blood on my hair."

Hilda would have laughed at the number three's command but feared a resurgence of the bile that she had choked upon previously.

"You shouldn't have it so long."

"Aren't you dying from a stomach wound, Hilda?" Annoyance crept into Galatea's tone.

"Thanks for saving me," Hilda muttered against her classmate's ear. A soft sigh escaped Galatea, the first one Hilda had ever heard from her calmly collected and aloof companion.

"I should have killed you back there."

"Why?" Hilda's eyes closed, her voice becoming sleepily.

"You know perfectly well."

"Oh, you figured it out." Galatea's pause was confirmation enough as was the slowing of her steps before she halted completely.

"I was glad that he knocked you unconscious so early in the fight," she admitted.

"For a moment I thought I would have to take on two awakened beings."

Hilda dimly registered her words through her hazy mind.

She had suspected Galatea would find out that she was struggling not to surpass her limit. Hilda knew that every battle she took part in held an ever increasing chance that she would awaken. It was no longer a matter of time. The only thing keeping her at bay was her strong will to remain as human for as long as possible. But that was just selfish.

"I've already sent my black card," she mumbled as Galatea began to trek up the slight incline that would lead them straight to the village.

"Liar. You mean that you're going to send it."

A weak smile crept up the edges of Hilda's mouth.

"It would crush her. I just want to send it right at the end to minimise the pain. I'm not saying I'm worthy of being missed but she looks up to me."

"Your choice is number seventeen?"

"Yes Galatea. Her name is Miria."

No more words passed between them and by the time the two claymores reached the entrance of the village, Hilda was sleeping peacefully upon her comrade's shoulder.

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><p>"<em>To minimise the pain."<em>

Four months later, these words still sounded ironic to her ears even more so at the sight of the warrior who stared back at her. Without a second glance the current number eight, Phantom Miria turned to leave.

"I apologise for the disturbance."

"Don't apologise I was just leaving." Galatea's melodious tone stopped her fellow claymore before she reached the door.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Galatea closed the distance between them to lean causally on the door frame effectively blocking Miria's view of the room.

"May I ask what brought you here to the restricted archives of our humble masters?" Miria gazed back at her, undaunted by the smug look on Galatea's face.

"Curiosity. I'll be on my way."

"Curiosity killed the cat or so they say, but perhaps that precisely why you're looking."

"You should stick to youki reading, Galatea." Her tone was flat and implied how unimpressed she had been during all of their conversations.

"Well that might be for the best." Galatea pulled away walking back across the room her hand running along the edge of one of the shelves. Blowing the dust from her fingers she turned once again to face Miria who hadn't moved from the doorway.

"You can come in. I promise this time I won't bite."

Still annoyed but compliant with the invitation Miria followed her back into the room. At first, Miria had entered the dank smelling archives thinking she was truly alone. Rounding one of the shelves she had nearly stumbled over the slumbering number three. Despite the dust around the room she looked comfortable and Miria had spent several moments studying her. It was not often that one caught Galatea with her defences down. The current number three both awed and annoyed her. From a look, Miria could tell that Galatea was powerful enough to deserve her rank. The intimidation Miria felt as she towered over her on their first encounter had faded with subsequent meetings as Galatea's narcissism and arrogance began to shine through. She was pleasant enough to talk to but a chore to work with. Squatting down in front of the still sleeping number three, Miria had scanned the shelf noting unsurprisingly that the document she wanted rested inches above Galatea's head. Deciding that it wasn't worth the risk of being discovered, Miria rose to her feet ready to leave. A slight movement from her fellow claymore stopped her and she found herself once again studying the latter's face. Galatea's movement had made the shelf behind her slightly more accessible and the usually calculating and cautious Miria reached forward only for her hand to deviate from the shelf towards the fringe of her fellow claymore.

"Don't touch the hair." Galatea's voice was icy and her silver eyes had slowly opened to take in Miria's form.

Now they were stuck staring at each other trying hard to gauge each other's motives. Unfortunately, Galatea had the upper hand and Miria was dreading the moment the astute number three connected the pieces.

"I suppose I have been absent for long enough." Galatea changed the subject not missing the surprised look upon Miria's usually passive face. "It is rather difficult to find a place to sleep within these walls and the prospect of facing number four does warrant extra sleep."

Passing Miria, she stopped by the doorway and fixed the current number eight with a look unfathomable in its meaning.

"Look after yourself, Pinecone."

"Pinecone?" Miria could not keep the irritated tone from her voice which seemed to further delight Galatea.

"It suits your hair." Galatea ran a hand through one of the strands of her own hair to illustrate her point as Miria glowered at her.

"I mean it," her voice took on a softer tone. "Rebellions don't bring back the dead."

With those words she was gone with her warning echoing in Miria's ears. But Hilda had meant far too much to Miria to be forgotten in her agony over her part in Hilda's death. She turned once again towards the documents within the room no longer daunted by a second presence. She was truly alone now with only the slow burning desire for revenge to keep her company.


End file.
